


Coda to 8x21: Empty Chairs at Empty Tables

by OurUnsungHeroes42344



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Dean Has Nightmares, Dean Has Self-Esteem Issues, Dean Has Self-Worth Issues, Dean Has a Bad Day, Dean Hates Himself, Demon Dean, Empty Chairs at Empty Tables, Episode: s08e21 The Great Escapist, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 20:04:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10044317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OurUnsungHeroes42344/pseuds/OurUnsungHeroes42344
Summary: Supernatural one-shot. What was going through Dean's head during 8x21 The Great Escapist. Inspired by Dean Winchester || Empty Tables by Stevie Michael.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My first Supernatural Fic! Yay! Hope this is okay! Look for a SPN/Castle Crossover coming eventually!

Dean's phone starts ringing, the familiar tone filling his ears. He thanks the owner of the tribal museum and steps outside, pulling his phone from his pocket as he does so. 

Glancing at the caller ID _'Sammy'_ he curses silently, this couldn't be good. "Sam?"

Nothing. No answer. No static. Just silence.

"Sam! Sammy? Sammy! Son of a bitch!" Dean yells, slamming the phone closed he climbs into Baby and tears out of the empty parking lot, pushing 60 all the way back across town to the hotel. He tries Sam three times on the way. "Pick up, pick up, pick up, pick up, Dammit!"

 _'He's dead. The trials killed him. You failed him again. It's your fault,'_ a voice whispers inside Dean's head, sounding vaguely like his father's. 

 

"Shut up," he whispers, harshly.

_'You couldn't do this one job. You couldn't kill the hellhound. Sam had to save you from being ripped to shreds again. Like Jo had to. You're a curse. Anyone and everyone you get close to dies, usually saving your worthless, pathetic, useless ass. Dad, Ash, Ellen, Jo, Pamela, Bobby, Benny, Kevin and now Sammy.'_

Dean roars into the parking lot of the Two Rivers Hotel, slamming on the breaks, the car has barely stopped and he's jumping out, blowing past the manager's desk, racing towards their room.

 

The hallway seems to stretch on forever. ' _No crossroads deals or angels can help you this time. Sammy’s dead and it's all your fault. Just like last time and the time before that. He would've been better off without you. They all would've.'_

 

"No," he growls. "He's not dead. He's not dead. He can't be."

Dean rounds the corner and spots their room immediately, sliding to a halt outside their partially open door. He pushes the door and it swings open.

Dean's heart stops. Everything slams to a halt. "No..." because lying on the hotel floor just inside the door is his baby brother. Dean forces his feet into motion, but only makes it a few steps before his legs give out. His world crashing down around him as his knees hit the ground besides Sam's head. 

With trembling hands Dean reaches out and brushes his fingers across Sam's pale, sweaty brow. He recoils immediately, drawing his hand back as if he'd been burnt. Dean reaches into his pocket and pulls out the thermometer he'd gotten, slipping it into place under Sam's tongue. He lets out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding as Sam's shallow breath warms his fingers. 

 _'He's alive.'_ The weight lifts a little off his shoulders and the world starts moving again. _'For now,'_ the voice in his head adds, right on cue. According to the thermometer Sam's current temperature is 107°F. 

Dean stumbles to the bathroom and turns the cold water on full blast, putting the stopper in. He races back out, snagging the ice bucket off the desk as he races down to the ice machine. He rips the bags out and starts filling the bucket, tapping his foot impatiently. What seems like an hour later the bucket can't hold anymore ice and he races back to the now full tub. He dumps the ice in and turns the water off. Three trips later and he hurtles the bucket at the wall in frustration, opting for the trash can. 

Dean returns to his brother's side after filling the trash can twice, if at all possible Sam seems even worse. Dean crouches at his brother's side, hefting all 6'5 of him into his arms he struggles to his feet and stumbles painstakingly slow, footstep by footstep to the bathroom. His own words echoing in his head. _'I may not be able to carry the burden that comes along with these trials, but I can carry you.'_

Dean slides Sam's lifeless body into the ice bath as carefully as he can and then all but collapses besides the tub. Pulling himself to his knees, he forces Sam beneath the surface of the water, holding him there, begging his brother to pull through. 

What seems like an eon from when his phone first rang Sam begins to thrash underneath his grip. Seconds later Dean is thrown backwards as Sam explodes out of the water, quickly rising to his feet in protest. "Get Off!"

 

Later that night, actually it was more like early next morning Dean collapses dead tired onto his bed back at the bunker, but sleep evades him. Everytime he closes his eyes he sees Sam laying on the floor, barely breathing, body burning with fever. Or he hears Kevin's voice on the video, saying he's dead. True, Metatron had rescued him, but it was much too close of a call for comfort. When sleep finally claims him, helped along by quite a bit of alcohol, he's at the mercy of his dreams and himself. 

The faces of his dead family flash through his head, their last moments, the first time they'd met, the moments in between. They were all dead because they'd met him, befriended him, sacrificed themselves for him or been murdered. 

Or he's back in that out of the way shack, his father, possessed by Azazel, ripping him to shreds from the inside out. In the hospital, pleading, screaming for his father to help him, hours later he's breathing on his own again and Dad's burning in front of them. 

Then he's running for his life, a hellhound dragging him down, but Jo's there. An hour later he's kissing her goodbye as she bleeds out in Ellen's arms. A few minutes later they blow up the building, giving them a shot at Lucifer, which ultimately did nothing. Then he's seeing her again, her ghost resurrected by Osiris, using her to kill him the same way he'd killed her.

 

Benny. Benny he'd killed himself. He'd asked him to return to the place he'd spent 50 years fighting for every second to rescue his brother from a trial he should've been completing. Called him up without hesitation, even though he himself had been the one to cut ties only weeks earlier. The one person who'd never once let him down and he'd killed him.

Then comes the all too recent memory of Cas. His best friend, who he'd thought he'd killed more than once already, shattering his arm, beating his face to a bloody pulp, angel blade raised, ready to deal the final blow. Dean begs his best friend, truly terrified of the angel. Cas drops his arm and Dean attempts to crawl away, cradling his excruciatingly painful arm against his chest, trying not to pass out with everything he's got. 

But then Cas is reaching out for him, Dean can't help it, he flinches away, expecting Cas to finish him off. Cas's hand cradles his face and Dean gasps as his healing powers flood through him like a wave. Dean opens his eyes and looks up at his best friend in time to see the tip of an angel blade protrude from his chest. Cas explodes with white light and drops to the ground, the burned shape of wings spread out on either side of him. 

Dean looks to see who'd just murdered his best friend in time to see himself with pitch black demonic eyes bring the blade down through his chest. Dean gasps in agony and the demonic version of himself leans down, pushing the blade further into Dean's chest, forcing him to the ground. **"YOU CAN'T ESCAPE ME, DEAN! YOU'RE STILL GOING TO DIE. AND THIS. THIS IS WHAT YOU'LL BECOME! THE VERY MONSTER YOU HUNT. THE VERY THING THAT WILL GUT, RIP AND TEAR EVERYONE YOU LOVE TO SHREDS!"**

Dean’s eyes shoot open as he rockets up in bed, panting. And that's when it all comes crashing down on him again, something inside him shatters and that's when the tears begin to fall.  
 

After a few minutes he hears Sammy calling his name. He forces himself to calm down, taking deep ragged breaths. After all hadn't he said himself, _'What's one more nightmare?'_

**Author's Note:**

> I love you all, until next time! In the words of Dean Winchester and Charlie Bradbury : Audi Nos, Bitches!


End file.
